


To Escape from Reality

by ownedbyacat



Series: Reunion [7]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, JYJ (Band)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-25 02:59:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2606003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ownedbyacat/pseuds/ownedbyacat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It needs a landslide to make them realise what they've been missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Escape from Reality

**Author's Note:**

> A rather long piece to end this series, but the story just kept going, so I followed the Muse where it led me. Thanks for sticking with me while I imagined something that will quite certainly never happen. Still, sometimes it is nice to dream.  
> And, of course, the boys belong to themselves and no Korean villages were damaged in writing this story.

The garrison commander was well aware that amongst his troops were two of South Korea's most famous entertainers. It mattered precisely nothing to him, beyond the fact that the two did their duties on time and in the way he expected them done.

It was his wife, seconded by his daughter, who reminded him of the upcoming New Year's Day concert the garrison was used to host. And that, just maybe, this year's concert could be turned into something more than a means to raise funds for the local orphanage and other good causes. At the very least, they could raise more money than ever before.

The garrison commander pondered entertainment contracts and all he'd been told by his daughter about the supposed animosity between the two stars, then decided that none of it mattered. What happened in the army, stayed in the army. And orders were orders for a reason.

For a heady few weeks, the commander was the toast of his family, waited on hand and foot and celebrated as a veritable hero and fairy godfather by his daughter and her numerous friends.

It so wasn't his fault that the weather took a turn for the absolute worst in the run up to New Year. Neither could he have been able to predict the torrential floods that laid waste to part of the province and the even more devastating mudslide that cut off several of the more remote villages.

The New Year's Day concert, and anything surrounding that event, went right out of his mind at that point.

***

Moving as fast as he could while yelling loud enough to make himself heard wasn't a hard feat to accomplish for Jung Yunho. The path in front of him was level. There were no lights that blinded him or turned the air around him so hot that sweat ran into his eyes faster than he could wipe or blink it away. Nobody had asked him to remember a complicated step sequence or co-ordinate his movements with four other people and a raft of backup dancers. He didn't have to remember lyrics or harmonies. And as for taking cues… forget it.

Most of the men around him, all fit, able and well-trained, didn't fare so well. Nobody could have understood a word of what they tried to communicate and eventually Yunho was prompted to point that out.

It didn't go down nearly as badly as he'd thought it would. The discordant yelling stopped. Yunho's pack was roughly yanked off his shoulders and most of the contents distributed amongst his team mates.

When they resumed the mad dash across the muddy, completely unrecognisable landscape, Yunho's voice was the only one that rose and fell with their message. It rang clear and pure through the mist, rose over the downpour and finally—finally!—prompted an audible response from somewhere far ahead of them.

***

Tear-streaked, scared faces and terrified eyes greeted them as they broke through the rubble. Sounds of weeping rent the air, louder and more insistent than the screams of fans Jaejoong had had to learn to—not ignore, but tune out so he could focus.

The village didn't resemble the photos they'd been shown while they prepared for their task. Only a few houses were still standing; most having been swept away without resistance by a roiling flood of mud and debris.

Those who were not wandering around lost and looking for loved ones, or who were not frantically digging in the hope of finding someone alive, were huddled together in the lee of the largest of the remaining buildings— too shocked to clear the entrance to the nearby caves and seek shelter inside—wet and bedraggled and desperate to find protection from the incessant rain and wind.

Nobody was surprised when their CO sent Jaejoong to deal with the villagers. Jaejoong was good at looking after people. His warmth put others at ease, his smile chased away fear, and he could usually see what was wrong or what needed doing without having to ask.

It mattered little, right then, that he was Kim Jaejoong of JYJ, former lead singer of DBSK, honorary ambassador and supporter of worthy causes. What mattered was that he could stretch out his hands and help. Wherever help was needed.

Years of experience taking care of others—of cajoling Yoochun out of bed in the morning, making sure that Junsu ate something beside sweets or leaving food for Changmin to find at midnight, of waiting up for Yunho so he would have a living soul to come home to in the early hours—merged with new skills he'd learned in the last few month, helping him set to work without hesitation.

Shelter first, then food, showing the children how to light a camping stove when there was nothing dry enough to make fire with, cleaning dirty faces and setting water to boil. Keeping the survivors occupied with small tasks, praising and cajoling, ignoring exhaustion and the fact that his boots were as waterlogged as the rest of his uniform.

As everyone around him, he heard the voice. And for a long, cold moment the well-known sounds struck him numb and speechless. Then he was running, raising his voice in reply. Desperate to be heard, he wished for Changmin's siren-like tone, but right then, his own voice was enough.

The troop came down the slope, running and loaded with supplies and, right in front where Jaejoong had never ceased to envisage him, ran Jung Yunho.

***

Wet and bedraggled wasn't a good look on anyone, least of all two star entertainers, but they had both long stepped from the shadows of stylists and designers.

Through the pouring rain they looked each other over, checking for sprains and hidden injuries as they were used to do. And even though this wasn't a performance, wasn't something they'd ever attempted together, they slipped into old familiar patterns and smiled through the memories, almost too caught up in each other to get out of the way of the second mudslide.

***

After the first slide, the area had been a disaster zone. Now it was a graveyard of devastation, populated by people too scared to move, speak or seek shelter. They had gathered anyone they could find and retreated into the caves, only to find a third slide blocking their way out of the valley.

Their only option now to wait for outside help, Yunho and Jaejoong found themselves in the far reaches of the caves, helping to set up camp and soothing the survivors. They both knew how to splint breaks, immobilise sprains and bandage wounds and the team medics gratefully accepted their help.

Nobody was surprised when Yunho and Jaejoong started singing. Least of all Yunho and Jaejoong. After all, singing together was what they'd always done, the way they communicated best. What surprised them a little, was the fact that they knew all each other's songs, down to lyrics, switchoffs and harmonies. As they had done in the past they traded lines, automatically compensated for the other voices that should have joined in, and settled back into a routine that was bittersweet in its familiarity. In less time than should have been possible, their voices wove a soft, comforting soundtrack to the long wait they had ahead of them, never stopping, never faltering, distracting and soothing both.

When the rescue teams arrived in the valley, Yunho sounded like a man with a 60-a-day habit and Jaejoong's voice was a dry, painful rasp that might have sounded sexy if he'd been less exhausted.

Despite the discomfort they smiled. At the villagers and at each other.

"Changmin said we should talk," Yunho admitted.

"He always was the smart one."

Jaejoong stretched like a cat, the movement sinuous and slow. And Yunho smiled at the familiar sight, at the way one corner of Jae's mouth curled up for just a moment, at the way the pleasure of the stretch reflected in his eyes, turning them dark and deep and mysterious.

Time and choices might have changed their lives. What he'd overlooked was the fact that they had more between them than just work and contracts and living arrangements. And he finally understood that the ties that bound them were stronger than all that, glowing coals that burned deep and unquenchable.

"Don't be a stranger," Yunho said, as they were about to return to their respective units and resume their work.

And the joy in Jaejoong's eyes was answer enough.

***

Five days later, returned from the valley, cleaned up and settled back into garrison routine, Jaejoong's phone buzzed with a text. The number wasn't one he recognised and at first glance, the message made no sense.

_TY. CMST._

Standing in the middle of the parade ground with tears in his eyes was undignified. So Jaejoong refrained.

 

_[fin]_


End file.
